One Girl's Love
by Lisa Bo Bisaa
Summary: When one is oblivious to love, one does not love. A certain thunder mage won't take that for an answer. Ilyana/Zihark, various other pairings, yaoi to yuri to hetero. FE9, Hooray!
1. Chapter 1

**Second story, first FE fic. Probably not going to get updated to often, I really have no idea where this story came from. But what can you do about it?**

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**_Daein troops invaded our camp today. They sent a diversion troop to the east to distract us, and ransacked the camp while we were fighting. They took almost everything, and I mean almost. They left us some food, weapons, and most of our personal possessions that wouldn't help in battle. Ike says they did that because everyone has a heart – even Daein, but Soren has different views. He says they plan to slowly but surely break us. They left us just enough to stay alive, and more than enough to fuel our resent towards them, so we'll keep fighting. He says if they took everything, we would turn tail and run home, only to come back sometime in the near future, as strong as before. This way, we'll eventually run out of food, to far from home, making us easy prey. I have to agree with Soren. Ike tries to find the good in everyone to much. Luckily, I had mixed this journal up with one of my tomes, so it ended up coming to the battlefield with me._

_They destroyed a lot of our tents, too. Everyone has to room with about six or seven other people now and they're all so finicky. Soren and Ike are so clingy and MUST be in the same room (Though I don't blame them, they are rather cute together). Rolf, Boyd, and Kieren refuse to let Oscar out of their sight. Nephenee, actually talking for once, said she needs Brom and Calill in her tent. Lethe says the only beorc she can room with is Jill (I think they're an item!), and Reyson says Ike and Mist are the only beorc he could room with. The rooms ended up being as follows – Ike, Soren, Oscar, Rolf, Kieren, Boyd, Haar, Geoffrey, Shinnon, and Gatrie, and Brom in one tent (Shinnon had much to say in protest), Tanith, Jill, Marcia, Nephenee, Lucia, Calill, Titania, Astrid, Mist, and Elincia (Who almost had to room with Ike) in another. Then there was Lethe, Mordecai, Tormod, Sothe, Muarim, Reyson, Janaff, Ulki, and Nasir. Finally, there was my tent, made up of Myself, Zihark, Mia, Makalov, Volke, Bastian, Devdan, Rhys, Largo, and Ranulf. I can't complain about my living arrangements, Mia's here, so it's nice. I just wish I could stop staring at him…_

"Ilyana?"

Ilyana snapped out of her stare and flushed. "Um, y-yes?"

"Why were you staring at me?"

Normally, this would be and easy situation to skip out of for the mage, if only it wasn't with the person it was. A quick 'you have a bug on your face' would fix the problem in no time. Not with Zihark, though. It was as if he was part heron and always knew what she was thinking.

"I – ah, I," she began, stuttering unintentionally.

Mia's ears perked up, instantly aware that her friend was in trouble. Mia was fully aware of Ilyana's interest in Zihark – in a friendly attempt to read one of her tomes, she accidently stumbled upon the girl's journal. Playfully bopping the swords master on the head with the hilt of her blade, Mia giggled softly.

"Silly Zihark, she wasn't staring at you, she was staring behind you. At me!" She gave a haughty grin and sheathed her sword, successfully bumping into both Makalov and Rhys in the process.

Ilyana gave a quick nod, thankful that Mia covered for her, yet anxious that she had to finish the charade. "Uh, yeah. She's been making faces behind you this whole time." Zihark was about to ask 'Then why did you have this dreamy little smile on your face,' but Ilyana stuck her head out of the tent and said, "What? Mist needs help with dinner? Okay, I'll help," before snatching her journal and heading outside.

Zihark just sat there, finger in the air as if he was going to ask a question, mouth slightly agape. "It's best not to ask," Mia said calmly.

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Most of the tent had gone to dinner, and the only occupants left were Volke and Zihark. The swords master was enjoying the leg room, and was spread out on a pillow. Volke was twirling a knife between two fingers.

Volke was not one for silence. Rather than just breaking it, he smirked for an instant, and then flicked his knife across the tent. It flipped a few times in the air before burying itself square between Zihark's legs, dangerously close to the crotch.

"Volke, that was SO uncalled for!" Zihark spat out, instantly sitting up. He pulled the knife out of the ground and thought about tossing it back at him, but decided against it out of fear out mutilating the assassin.

"What? You were being awfully silent; I figured it would perk you up a bit." Volke shrugged off his tent mate's panic and began twirling the knife again. "So, what's up with you and that sage?" he asked nonchalantly.

Zihark cocked his head. "Who, Ilyana? What do you mean 'up with us'?" Zihark was, for the most part, an oblivious man when it came to love.

Volke sighed, it seemed like he'd be giving the 'birds and bees' talk. As he took a deep breath, Mia popped in, reliving the assassin.

"Hate to interrupt you boys, but Ike and Soren are discussing battle tactics, Mist is worried you're not eating, and Rhys wants to check out that gash, Volke." Silently, she added "And Ilyana's been holding that seat next to hers for ages, and people are getting suspicious."

Reflecting, Mia smirked at how school-girlish Ilyana acted around Zihark. Staring at him when he wasn't looking (And sometimes when he was), constantly writing about him in her journal, and, get this – _saving some of her food for him._ Oh yes, this was not just a crush.

This was love.

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**So... yeah, review if you like it. Chapter two shall be up once I write it and stop telling myself how horrid it is.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Look, I'm not dead! I found out people actually like my story, so I wrote chapter two. I must say, it's muchmuchmuch better than chapter one. So, uh, here it is.**

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"And _therefore_," Shinon managed to beat the ever-present alcohol and only allowed words to be expelled through his mouth, "if a certain _someone_ hadn't decided to send the _entire_ camp out to protect some run-down village, _I_ wouldn't have to be making all my bows out of tree branches and underwear elastic, those sub-humans wouldn't be shredding us in their sleep from the close quarters, and that pale girl over there wouldn't be staring at that swordmaster like she's gonna eat him!"

Shinon's words brought Ilyana's attention to him and away from Zihark – who was picking something out of his teeth, yet Ilyana found him somehow entrancing. Her face turned pink, so she pretended to interesting in rearranging her moldy cheese and dry jerky to make it more appealing.

Mia, after sharing a laugh with Mist about how that was probably the longest sentence every spoken by a drunk man, glanced over at Ilyana. She nearly gasped when she saw her. "Ilyana!" She said in a hushed voice (probably more for dramatic affect than anything, really). "There's food on your plate, rather than a blur! Are you sick?"

Ilyana didn't respond, or even acknowledge Mia's presence. Either she actually didn't hear her, or she was much too interested watching Gatrie drag Shinon out of the tent by his ponytail, the archer in question trying to pick a fight with one of Gatrie's pant legs.

Mia's hand was on Ilyanas forehead for emphasis, but Ilyana ignored her again. Mia only had one trick left, and she was sure it would work. "Well, I guess if you're not hungry, I'll just take this." She reached for Ilyana's cheese, but as her hand just barely touched it, Ilyana slapped it away without looking at her. '_Well, I got her attention,'_ Mia thought. Finally, she resorted to Gatrie's method.

"Alright, Ilyana's not feeling well. Put this in a doggy bag for her, will ya, Oscar?" she said rather loudly, rising to her feet. She took hold of one lavender pigtail in each hand and yanked. Ilyana squeaked in pain and finally gave in. She followed Mia out of the tent, shivering at the cold winter air.

"Alright, 'Yana, something's bothering you, and I mean _really_ bothering you if you're not eating." Mia put her hands on her hips and pouted.

"Yeah. I mean, kind of. I mean, I'm not sure." Ilyana explained, rubbing her hands together for heat. Mia's eyes brightened.

"Well, what is it? Is it juicy?" Mia asked, suddenly excited.

"Not really. I mean, kind of. To some people."

"Well, spit it out already!" Mia said, becoming impatient.

Ilyana sighed, looking down. "Well, Zihark and Volke have been spending an awful lot of time together. They opted to be roommates even before the ambush, and Volke only takes his mask off for Zihark," she said slowly, her eyes looking sad. "Do you think they're…?"

Mia couldn't help but chuckle. "'Yana, you and I hang out together all the time, and nobody thinks we're lesbians or something. I think you're over-reacting."

Just as the words left Mia's mouth, the swordmaster and assassin in question left the dining tent, laughing at something. The girls quieted and hid behind a tree, peering out over the sides. "Well, I'm gonna go train a bit before it gets to dark. See you back at the tent." Zihark gave Volke a wave before heading off, but Volke smirked and slapped him on the ass before parting in the opposite direction. Zihark right near squeaked, blushed, smiled a bit, and walked off.

Zihark wasn't the only one blushing. Mia was bright red. Ilyana wasn't, she had seen it before. "See what I mean?" she said, sounding hopeless. "Maybe I should just give up and let them be together."

Mia crossed her arms. "Oh no, missy. There is no way I'm letting you be miserable like that. Besides, we don't even know for sure if they ARE together!" She stood up from her crouched position and tapped her chin. "Well, out options are few and this is going to be tough, but 'Yana, I think I have a plan." She leaned over to Ilyana and whispered in her ear.

And thus, Operation 'Find Out if Volke and Zihark are Together' began.

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Zihark slashed through the bark of a tree with a grunt. The blade he had chosen was duller than he had thought, and it was proving to be a pain in the neck. But he didn't have time to sharpen it, he'd just hold it out in front of Soren and let him freak out because they would be unprotected in battle.

He got back into position and stabbed at the tree, full force. The impact left a nick in the tree but also broke the blade in two. He held up each piece in either hand and sighed. From behind him came a chuckle.

"If you twist your hand like you just did before you strike, the blade will get stuck in the ribcage and you're out a weapon." Mia was leaning against a tree, arms crossed. Her voice was totally calm, and her face had a small smirk. "Luckily, I forgot I had a sword in my sheath before I brought one." She tossed him the weapon, he clumsily caught it. Mia drew her own, a shiny silver blade she had brought into the battle when the Daeins ransacked their camp. Ziharks was a simple iron sword. She got into her battle stance. "At your ready."

Caught totally off-guard, Zihark slowly raised his weapon. "Ever ready to train, Mia? I should have seen this coming."

With one last smirk, Mia lunged at Zihark. He blocked her strike with his own sword, but she had anticipated it. Her free hand grabbed Zihark's sword wrist, twisting it so his sword pointed behind him. She held her sword under his neck in a kill-pose. Within a moment, their duel had ended.

"Pathetic," she said, rolling her eyes. She lowered her blade, sheathed it, and took a few steps away from Zihark. "You're not focusing. I can see it in your eyes."

Heart pounding from adrenalin, Zihark shrugged. "I don't know what you're talking about." He turned away from Mia and began waving his sword again.

"Oh yes you do. Something's up, and you know it. So, what is it, Hot Shot? You sick? Lonely? Having _love_ problems?" Zihark's face went a shade lighter at Mia's words.

"No," he said, his voice remaining calm. But Mia wasn't stupid (Okay, not blind at least) and had already seen the look on his face.

"I knew it! So who's the lucky gal? Or guy, I don't judge," she said, emphasizing on _guy_. Zihark rolled his eyes.

"You'd never guess," he said simply. He sheathed his sword and turned on his heel, leaving Mia behind. "I'll see you back at the tent, I guess."

Mia crossed her arms and pouted. Zihark was harder to crack than she thought.

* * *

Ilyana shyly approached Volke. Though she was all for finding out if the two were together, she wasn't happy she had to interrogate Volke. He was intimidating, with the mask and all. Of course, she wouldn't have much more nerve if it were Zihark. Oh well, here goes. "Volke?"

The assassin didn't even bother to look up from the knife he was sharpening. "Oh, you talk. What do you need?" He cut some stray rope with the knife, frowned, and began sharpening again.

What did she need? Mia hadn't told Ilyana what to do, and she didn't have a plan. "Uh, well, can I help you?" Yeah, that was stupid. Ilyana is aichmophobic, why do you think she's a mage?

Volke could tell she was improvising. But he was almost finished and needed some cheap entertainment. "Alrighty, then. Think fast." He flicked the knife to the side, and it whizzed right past Ilyana's ear. It took all her willpower not to scream. Volke smirked.

"Uh, nevermind. I guess you're finished." She was just about ready to turn tail and run, find Mia, and tell her she was out. But Mia would take that as an excuse to do something even more drastic, like lock Ilyana and Zihark in a closet together or something. She sat down on a crate next to Volke. Time to do what anyone else would do in this situation – lie to get results, then bolt. "So, I think I saw Sothe following Astrid around like a lost puppy earlier today – he had this dreamy look in his eyes. Is something up between them?"

It was probably the worst lie she would come up with, and she knew it. Volke did too, he began laughing (A/N – Try imagining Volke laughing. _I dare you_.) "And during this time, were you asleep or hallucinating from lack of food, dear?" Volke got out between chuckles. "I guess you were spaced out during dinner tonight, because Sothe and that short mage, y'know, the redhead? Use your imagination, but keep in mind they're kids." Volke said, finally recovering and using a normal tone of voice. Ilyana was bright red in an instant.

"Oh, I guess I must have been seeing things!" she said, trying to cover herself up. But Volke wasn't dense.

"Of course you were. Now, why bring this up? It's not the craziest thing that's happened around here. Aren't you and Zihark together?" Volke asked.

As if Ilyana wasn't red enough. "W-what are you t-talking about?" she asked. But his question answered hers, he wouldn't be wondering if Ilyana and Zihark were an item if he was already together with him "Anyway, I think I hear Mia calling, bye!" She stood up, darted away from Volke, tripped over a drunk, sleeping Makalov, and finally made it out of the tent. Which led to further problems.

"Ilyana, you're all red! Are you sick?" Zihark asked, returning to the tent from training with Mia. His hand was on her forehead, and _boy, _was her face warm. "Yikes, you're burning up. Hold still!" Zihark dropped his hand from her forehead and picked her up bridal-style. "Come on, I'm taking you to Rhys."

His mere presence alone made her dizzy. His touch made her burn up like a Yule log. Being carried by him was enough to make Ilyana faint.

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Ilyana slowly opened her eyes. Her vision was foggy, but she could tell she was inside a tent. She sat up, and leaned against the pillow someone had put behind her head. Once she could see clearly, she was blushing again.

Zihark was asleep on a box next to her makeshift bed. Rhys was at the other end of the tent, reading something. He glanced up to see she was awake. "How are you feeling? You've been out for a while now."

"I feel fine. What happened?" she asked. All she remembered was an awkward conversation with Volke, running into Zihark, and then nothing.

Rhys stood and walked towards her bed. "Zihark brought you here unconscious. He said he thought you had a fever, and when he picked you up, you were out cold. I checked you out, and we're lucky Zihark brought you here, you were just short of getting pneumonia." He felt her forehead and smiled. "You're getting better already. I guess the sudden cold and your lightning-fast metabolism hit you harder than normal."

Ilyana glanced to Zihark, who was snoring softly in the corner. She blushed a bit, but Rhys didn't notice. Her lips curled into a small smile, before mouthing the words, _Thank you_.

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**Aw, that was cute. The idea of Volke and Zihark being together was imagined in the immensly crackified brain of FlamingDoritos, for nobody else in this wide world could imagine such a pairing. Go read her stories, she's uber.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Okay, so this is my gift to my readers. I stayed up until two-thirty am last night to finish it before I go to Florida for two weeks. This is my new favorite chapter, it's like twice as long as the other two and it's much better. Even though I wrote it while half asleep. Enjoy.**

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_I've been in bed for a day and a half now. Rhys said I should keep out of the cold for a little while longer to make sure the pneumonia stays away. Mia visits a lot, always bursting into the tent to tell me about her last training session with Shinon, or how she and Boyd nearly reduced Brom to tears by holding a hammer over his rocks. Soren actually came to visit once as well, but only to complain that I was offsetting his plan to continue marching ASAP, and how he hoped I actually do get sick so I might not eat as much. That went on until Ike calmed him down and got him to leave. Other than them, it's just been me and Rhys, occasionally Mist._

_I think Rhys knows how I feel about Zihark. When I woke up today, Zihark wasn't there, but Rhys told me how he wouldn't leave until he was sure I was okay._

_"It was really cute," Rhys had said. Cute?_

_I'm thinking of sneaking out to go find Zihark. Mia says he hasn't visited yet because Lethe's been training him like crazy. Besides, I haven't gotten to thank him properly yet._

Ilyana shut her diary and tucked the pencil into her belt. Pulling off the blanket and silently getting to her feet, she almost made it out of the tent before she was caught.

"Where are you going?" Rhys asked without looking up from the book he was reading.

Ilyana froze. "There's someone I need to talk to. Besides, I'm feeling fine and I don't have a temperature and –"

Rhys cut her off. "You're fine, go," he said gently. Ilyana could tell just from those three words that he knew where she was going.

Ilyana smiled gratefully and headed out of the tent. Night had fallen and the sky was dotted with stars. She could see her breath, but couldn't see any people out. She headed to Lethe's tent, distinguishable by the stink of wet fur. She asked politely where Zihark had gotten to, and Lethe told her he said he was going to the woods to get some air. Ilyana thanked the cat, who didn't feel the need to say 'You're welcome' to a beorc.

Ilyana still had her diary in her arms. She thought about getting a thunder tome, just in case, but decided against it.

The light from the moon shone brightly enough for the sage to see as she traveled into the woods. She couldn't help but feel somewhat safe; she was snapping every twig she came across, and the noise would have alerted any Daein soldier in the area. But none came.

She came into a clearing and finally spotted Zihark, lying on his back with his head on a rock, staring at the sky. He looked so peaceful, Ilyana considered not letting her presence be known so she could just watch him.

Of course, as she leaned on a tree, another branch snapped and Zihark sat up, on edge. He wrapped his fingers around the hilt of his sword, and his eyes darted around until they landed on Ilyana. His body relaxed and he smiled.

"Ilyana!" He said happily, motioning with his hand for her to come closer. She obeyed and walked over, sitting down on the ground next to him. "It's great to see you're feeling better."

Ilyana couldn't help but to smile along with him. He just had such a contagious smile. "A lot better, thanks. Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that."

Zihark sat up straighter. "Go right ahead," he said.

Ilyana took a deep breath. "Well, Rhys told me that you carried me all the way back to his tent after I fainted. He said you stayed at my side all night, even though he kept telling you I was okay." Zihark was blushing at this point but Ilyana continued. "I just wanted to tell you that was really sweet. Thank you." Ilyana looked hopefully for a response.

Zihark was silent for a moment, but then cleared his throat to speak. "You're welcome. I was worried sick, I didn't want to leave until I was sure you were all right. It's a relief to see you; you had been in that tent so long I thought you actually did get sick."

"I'm sorry I worried you. Rhys wouldn't let me leave." Ilyana looked to the ground, kicking a rock near her foot. "Nice night, huh?"

"Full moon," Zihark added pointing to the giant orb in the sky. "Think something bad is going to happen?"

Ilyana laughed softly. "I don't believe in superstition."

The winter air grew colder as the pair sat in silence. "I just wish it wasn't so cold," Ilyana mumbled.

She didn't think Zihark had heard her, but surprisingly he put his arm around her shoulders and let her lean her head on his shoulder.

"Better?" He asked gently.

Ilyana blushed. "Thank you."

The moment seemed perfect. Ilyana and Zihark, together in the moonlight, all alone. It was silent, except for the chirping of crickets and the occasional growl of Ilyana's stomach. The pair would laugh whenever it growled. If time froze right now, Ilyana couldn't be happier.

A wolf howled in the distance, and that was when the night took a turn for the worst.

"Well, well, what have we here?" A husky voice called out from behind the pair. Ilyana and Zihark snapped to attention.

"It looks like we've interrupted a date, boys!" The voice seemed to be coming from the left now. Ilyana's breath hitched in her throat and Zihark wrapped his fingers around the hilt of his sword.

"At least a dozen Daein soldiers emerged from the trees, surrounding the pair. One soldier snuck up behind them and grabbed Ilyana by a pigtail. She gasped out in pain as he lifted her by her hair. "I've seen you before; you're with the Crimean army!"

Zihark flew to his feet, poised to attack. His face had instantly changed from a contented half-smile to a vicious snarl. "You are going to put her down _right now_, or I swear I'll cut you up so badly, your grandchildren will be born with scars!" Ilyana had never seen him like this before, it was frightening.

Zihark was about to slash at the soldier when two others restrained him from behind. The soldier holding Ilyana laughed. "Oh my, I'm so frightened. Just for that, I think we'll kill your little girlfriend here while you watch." Zihark's eyes widened in horror.

Ilyana thrashed and kicked at the soldier until he loosened his grip enough for her to get to her feet.

Zihark angled his sword and stabbed behind himself, jabbing one of the soldiers in the stomach. The soldier fell to his knees and held the wound, and Zihark pulled out of the other's hold.

He and Ilyana stood back-to-back, watching the soldiers. "Stay behind me. Get out of here if you can." Zihark whispered. A daring soldier ran at Zihark, barely grazing his arm with his lance before Zihark slashed at his neck, watching his lifeless form fall to the ground.

"I'm not leaving." Ilyana stated simply. She flipped frantically through her diary, she remembered ripping out a few Elthunder pages and folding them into her book for emergencies. She muttered the spell, and a pillar of lightning fell on the soldier who had threatened her, killing him on the spot.

"Just keep yourself safe, I couldn't bear to watch you get hurt!" Zihark cried out, which earned a few sarcastic 'awww's from the surrounding soldiers.

A few more lunged for the pair. They all seemed to be aiming at Zihark. The swordmaster's blade was flying around in an attempt to shield both him and Ilyana, but he was taking heavy blows. An axe-wielder swung at him, cutting a large gash in his side. Ziharkf ell to his knees clenching the wound, Ilyana gasped. She was practically shouting the spells now, electrocuting the last few soldiers. She crumpled up the page she had just read from and was horrified to find out it was the last one.

A single bloody soldier stood before her, ready to drive his metallic lance into her. She clenched her eyes shut, preparing for impact.

But death never came. She heard the soldier lunge at her, and she heard cries of pain. She could feel blood splatter on her body. But if it wasn't her blood…

"Zihark!" She cried out.

There in front of her was Zihark, a lance sticking out of his stomach. He had managed to jump in front of Ilyana before the lance hit her, and somehow he got his sword into the soldier's neck, killing him. Zihark was panting, barely managing to pull the lance out.

Ilyana dropped to her knees instantly. "Zihark!" she cried again, feeling a tear fall. She maneuvered him onto his back and held his head up. This gave her a clear view of the gaping hole in his stomach, blood staining his clothes. Ilyana felt sick.

She frantically felt around her own figure for the clasp of her cloak, unhooked it, and pressed it to his wounds to stem the flow of blood. "Zihark, don't die, please, please don't die!" Her voice was shaky as she spoke.

Zihark opened his eyes a bit. "Ilyana…" he choked out. Ilyana's heart raced. "Ilyana, your head…" Zihark tried to point to the gash on Ilyana's forehead, but could barely lift his arm up. Ilyana reached up and felt blood, but her attention was solely on Zihark.

"I'm going to get you back to Rhys, don't worry!" This was more to reassure herself than anything.

Zihark smiled a bit, his eyes sliding shut. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could get words out, he blacked out from blood loss. Ilyana was frantic. She put his arm around her shoulder and stood him up with difficulty.

"Come on, Zihark, walk for me!" He seemed to regain enough consciousness to slowly put one foot in front of the other. The pair slowly made their way around the corpses that were once Daein soldiers, and out of the woods. Along the way, Zihark occasionally coughed up a little blood before continuing on.

By the time they made it back to camp, Ilyana had resorted to dragging Zihark, as he had blacked out again. Panting, she fell to the ground, Zihark at her side. "Rhys!" she managed to call out before beginning to lose consciousness. Puzzled members of the army emerged from their tents. The last thing Ilyana remembered before blacking out was frantic cries and a glowing blue staff.

* * *

Ilyana's head was throbbing when she woke up. Her hand felt the spot on her head that was bleeding, someone had bandaged it. Her vision was foggy, but she could tell she was back in Rhys' tent.

That was when the events of that night hit her like a freight train. She frantically glanced around the tent until she spotted Zihark, and she dashed to his side.

His chest was slowly, painfully slowly, rising and falling. His face was paler than normal, and there were bandages wrapped all around his torso. She began to tremble as Rhys put a warm hand on her shoulder.

She snapped her head around to look at the priest, eyes wide. There were so many things she needed to ask him, but no words came out.

"Ilyana…" Rhys began softly. "I don't know how to put this. He had already lost so much blood when we found you. I'm not sure if he's going to make it."

Ilyana felt ice encircle her heart at Rhys' words. Her entire body was still; her eyes looked like they could see into your soul.

Rhys reached up to soothingly stroke her arm, but Ilyana lifted her own hand to stop him. Rhys got the hint and left the tent silently. Ilyana dropped to her knees and took Zihark's hand.

"This is my fault. All of it. If I hadn't made so much noise when I was looking for you, none of this would have happened!" Ilyana was angry at herself. Tears were spilling from her eyes and down her face like small rivers. "Or if I had brought a tome, I wouldn't have been so useless! Now you're lying here dying because you tried to protect me!"

She leaned over his chest and cried her eyes out. His face seemed lifeless, but his chest was still rising and falling. Ilyana started at his face, his beautiful, perfect face, and wished he would just open those dazzling green eyes of his and tell her it would be all right. She leaned down, her face millimeters from his, and gently pressed her lips to his.

And for a moment, she felt him kiss back.

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**Dang it, I keep writing stories where poor Zihark gets hurt. Hopefully he doesn't get mad.**

**I hope this holds you over for two weeks, because I'll likely have something ready when I get back.  
**


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